


Black meets blue

by spasticsamurai



Series: USS Destiel Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angel Castiel, Demon Dean, Gen, USS Destiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spasticsamurai/pseuds/spasticsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pirate fic, inspired by #USSDestiel on Twitter.</p><p>Here be the tale of Dean Winchester, Captain of The Impala, and Castiel, the Angel that finds himself bound to the ship and crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my soul… and I’m saving that up to make a deal to have Ben Edlund return to Supernatural.

The silence of the galley was broken by the soft scratches of a pen as it moved across the journal page. Outside, lightning flashed and the low rumble of thunder could be heard.

_This is not a fairy tale. This is not a story made up over the light of a camp fire. This is –_

“Hey, Kevin,” Sam greeted as he ambled in. Kevin spared Sam a glance when he hit his head on a low-hanging lamp. “What are you doing?” Sam threw over his shoulder as he rummaged through the refrigerator in search of a snack.

Kevin gave a non-committal shrug, turning back to his writing. “My job,” he answered, scribbling in a few more lines.

“The storm doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon,” Sam continued, pushing aside various plastic bags and tupperwares of questionable contents before he found his bag of baby carrots.  
Kevin made a disgusted face as Sam opens the bag and pops a few pieces into his mouth. “Dude, that was right next to Benny’s stuff.”

Sam gave the closed fridge door one look. “Doesn’t bother me,” he shrugged.

“Unbelievable,” Kevin muttered, turning back to his writing.

_– the true account of The Impala, and her crew. Captain Dean Winchester, brash, chronic alcoholic, suicidal, prone to bouts of self-pity –_

“Uh, Kevin? I think you’re supposed to make it sound more, you know, grand? And heroic?” Sam suggested, raising an eyebrow at the written words.

Kevin leveled Sam with a glare. “Which part of any of this isn’t true?” he challenged. 

Sam brought up both hands in a placating gesture, “Not saying it’s not true. Just, maybe, make it sound cooler. You know, for when they dredge this out of the sea a hundred years from now.”

A snort was Kevin’s reply. “A hundred years from now, we’ll still be –“

He was cut off by the sudden commotion outside on deck. He and Sam shared a look before rushing to the galley door.

Once outside, they could hear shouting from the crew gathered on the ship’s deck. Despite the pouring rain and freezing wind, the crew’s attention was focused on something in the sky.

Kevin raised his eyes upward, blinking against the raindrops pelting his face. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the skies.

High above the ship, the figure of two men with wings clashed. One managed to get in a good swipe, forcing the other to maneuver backwards. Bright white light leaked out from the figure’s shoulder.

“What the hell are those things?” he yelled at Sam.

Before Sam could answer, the sky was lit up by a sudden burst of light. Kevin instinctively closed his eyes and turned away. When he looked up again, the two figures were falling out of the sky.

One figure, the one with the injured shoulder, fell into the sea just off the ship’s bow. The crew scrambled as the other figure landed in the middle of the deck.

Kevin’s eyes bulged at the stranger. He had the body of a man, but massive black wings sprouted from his back. Kevin estimated the wingspan to be approximately 12 feet from end to end.

The crew watched silently as the stranger flipped over into a crouch, weapon in one hand and ready to attack. Blood dripped steadily onto the deck from a gash on his head.

“Welcome,” a voice cut through the silence, catching everyone’s attention.

All eyes turned to the speaker, standing just outside the captain’s cabin.

“The name’s Dean Winchester,” deep black eyes meet blue “Angel.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finds himself bound to The Impala, and by default, her captain and crew.

“The name’s Dean Winchester,” deep black eyes meet blue “Angel.”

Barely a breath after he finished acknowledging the angel, Dean found himself slammed backwards into the wall. A wheeze escaped him, and the pressure of a forearm across his throat held him in place. The wood creaked at the force exerted onto it.

The angel slapped a palm over Dean’s forehead and began to chant in a language foreign to Dean’s ears. There was a brief moment where Dean felt a little hot under the collar. He actually kind of liked being on the receiving end of some roughhousing. This close, the blue of the angel’s eyes seemed to glow and shift as he chanted.

Panic began to claw at him as he felt a force begin to pull him inside out. His breath quickened. He found himself gasping as pressure began to build within him. He struggled futilely against the angel’s hold.

Without warning, the chanting stopped and the angel slumped forwards against him. Dean flailed a little, gaining his balance and catching the angel before he cracked his head on the floor. When Dean looked up, Sam was hefting a two by four across his shoulders. The railing to his left sported a missing section. Dean gave his brother a murderous glare. The younger Winchester shrugged, “I improvised.”

“What the hell was that?” Dean’s voice was hoarse from the manhandling.

“He was smiting you, idjit,” a voice called from among the crew. Several heads turned to Bobby Singer, surrogate father of the Winchester brothers and The Impala’s resident lore master. Bobby took a swig of his rum, droplets of the alcohol catching on his beard. “Damn near succeeded too, if Sam hadn’t stepped in when he did.”

Dean settled the angel gently onto the deck. He rubbed at his throat gingerly. “You know I can’t die, Bobby. Doesn’t matter how the bastard tried to do it.”

“You can’t _be killed_ , Dean,” Bobby rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Getting smote by an angel doesn’t kill you; it just sends your demon ass back to Hell.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t work on me either,” Dean shot back.

All conversation was cut short when a soft groan came from the angel and one of his wings fluttered.

“Shit!” Dean bolted into his cabin. A ruckus could be heard as doors were slammed and furniture was tossed around. “Son of a bitch!”

The crew waited expectantly as their captain turned his cabin upside down. Moments later, the noise stopped as Dean re-emerged with an ancient-looking amphora in his left hand.

“Move him to the middle,” he ordered as he began to tip the amphora over. Yellow, honey-ike liquid flowed out as Dean carefully traced an unbroken circle around the awakening angel.

As soon as he completed the circle, he stepped back and pulled a lighter from his breast pocket. The angel groggily sat up. Dean quickly flicked open the lid of the lighter. He threw the lighter down, igniting the oil, just as the angel turned to him and their eyes met again.

***

Castiel’s vision swam a little as he fought for clarity. The back of his head throbbed, but the pain was beginning to subside as his Grace started to heal his wounds. Just as he turned and caught sight of the demon, a ring of fire roared to life around him. Instinctively, his wings snapped close to his body.

Castiel snarled as the demon paced outside the ring of holy fire. His ire spiked further when the demon smirked at him. He had been so close to sending the foul creature back to Hell.

“So, Angel,” the demon began, stepping closer to the edge of the fire. “How’s it feel in there?”

Castiel stood up to his full height, squared his shoulders and pinned the demon with a steely stare. “Release me or face my wrath, Demon.”

Castiel watched curiously as the demon blinked and shuddered visibly. He forced his features to remain neutral, swallowing down a triumphant smile. It would seem the demon finally understood the danger it was in.

Unexpectedly, the demon brought one finger up and moved it from side to side. “No can do, Angel. At least, not until you promise not to hurt anyone on this ship.”

Castiel’s scowl deepened. His eyes darted around, finally seeing the rest of the crew for the first time. Their true faces were plain as day to his eyes. He bared his teeth at them.

“We can’t have you mauling your own crewmates, now, can we?” the demon said. “That will be very messy and a whole waste of time.”

Confusion and curiosity bubbled to the forefront of Castiel’s mind as he processed the demon’s words. Nevertheless, he maintained his neutral expression even as he tilted his head in a questioning manner.

“And why, in my Father’s name, want to be a part of your crew, Demon?” Castiel asked.

“First of all, the name’s Dean, not Demon. Secondly, you don’t have a choice, Feathers. You’re bound to the ship, whether you like it or not.”

“Explain yourself, Dem-“ Castiel stopped short at the glared the demon shot him. “-Dean.”

The demon, Dean, broke out into a huge grin at the use of his name. “That’s more like it, Angel.”

“Castiel.”

Dean blinked in confusion. ”What?”

“My name is Castiel,” Castiel enunciated carefully. “I expect the same courtesy from you, if I am to use your name, Dean.”

Dean pursed his lips in thought. “Fair enough,” he declared, clapping his hands together once before rubbing them.

“Like I was trying to say, before you so enthusiastically tried to smite my ass into oblivion, this is The Impala. And I am her captain, Dean Winchester.” Dean spoke, hands opening up with a flourish.

“ The Impala is enchanted, cursed some might argue, by my ancestor. I’m sure you’re familiar with him,” Dean continued, pacing along the perimeter of the circle of holy fire. “Cain? Of Cain and Abel fame?”

Castiel sucked in a breath in surprise. His eyes widened further as Dean rolled up his right sleeve to reveal “The Mark of Cain,” Castiel breathed.

Dean nodded, a pleased smile on his face. “Good on you, Feathers. You pass Angel Lore 101.”

“I don’t understand that reference,” Castiel stated, eyes moving away from the Mark to lock gazes again with Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Anyway, dear great great great great…great?...great granddad gave me the Mark of Cain when we ran into him on an island somewhere northeast of here. Cain had gotten tired of his immortal life and watching people that he cared about leave him one after another, so he hid away on that uninhibited island. But, all you should know is that Cain transferred the Mark to me.”

Dean stopped for a beat, watching as the angel processed the information.

“What we didn’t expect was the side effects of the Mark. The thing’s got a mind of its own. When we got back to the ship, we began to notice small changes. First off, during a particularly bad skirmish, we lost Kevin,” a small Asian guy waved from the upper deck. “A few weeks after we buried him, imagine our surprise to see him appear in the galley.”

“He’s a spirit,” Castiel stated, shifting his attention to Kevin. In acknowledgement, Kevin flickered in and out of focus.

“Bingo!” Dean confirmed. “Benny there is a…”

Castiel looked over to the burly male with a cap. “Vampire,” he stated, and Benny smiled a mouthful of fangs.

“Werewolves,” Catiel stated, turning over to the gangly, smiling man. Garth waved. Beside him, Bess gave a curt nod.

“Spirits,” Castiel continued, moving over to the mother and daughter duo. Ellen and Jo Harvelle shifted their stance in response.

“Spirit,” Bobby Singer grunted in response to Castiel’s nod towards him.

Castiel paused a moment when he got to the tall male, casually shifting a large piece of wood from one hand to another. Dean cleared his throat, “Sammy here is, well, he’s kinda – “

“An abomination,” Castiel supplied.

Everyone froze for a second. Sam shrugged, “That’s a fair assessment.”

Dean cackled, slapping one hand against his thigh. “Oh man, I like you. I was going to say ‘a girl’ but abomination is so much better,” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I fail to see the humour in my statement. He is touched by both demon and angelic essence, yet has no soul.”

“When you’re been around as long as we have, everything becomes funny,” Dean shrugged. “But yeah, Sammy has no soul. We’re not even sure why he’s back in human form.”

“Moving along,” Dean continued, “It took us a while, and a few other dead crewmates, before we figured it out. The Mark makes me immortal, which in turn, makes The Impala indestructible.”

“Her crew, by association, became semi-immortal as well. Those who have died return in their creature forms, or in the case of the humans, as spirits.”

“Not all who have died returned, though,” Dean said quietly. “Only the ones who are bound to the ship can return.”

Castiel tilted his head in question. “You mentioned this of me. That I was bound to the ship. Explain.”

“A person, or creature, is bound to the ship when their blood is spilled onto her. And you, my feathered friend, happened to land on her in a mess of feathers and blood when you fell out of the sky,” Dean paused, watching the realization dawn on Castiel’s face.

“Which brings me to a question. What the hell happened to the storm? You fall out of the sky and it’s clear blue as far as the eye can see now?”

A shadow of grief flashed across Castiel’s face. “The storm dissipated when Raphael was slain,” he said shortly.

Seeing as the angel would not elaborate on his statement, Dean continued. “So, there you have it. Spill blood on the ship, and you’re bound to her. In life and beyond death.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this fic is going, so let’s let the USS Destiel sail where she wants.
> 
> Ahoy, me hearties!! Arrrrr…. Onwards to adventure!


End file.
